The Walking Dead Vol 1: Made to Suffer
by comicbookfan23
Summary: Several months pass since the Governor's assault, and Rick and his expanded group have been living peacefully at the prison, but a terrible fate soon awaits them & it will come with terrifying force! WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS & MAJOR SLASH! OMC/Rick
1. My OMC Profile

**The Walking Dead: Season 4**

This series' based on the TV version with elements from the comics and the videogame thrown in, and will feature my main character, an OMC by the name of David "Dave" Grimes nee Wray who I'll detail in his profile below. Also I shall explain the events that have happened throughout Season 1, 2 & 3 up to the moment where Season 4 begins where I shall start this series.

**WARNING**: This will feature plenty of slash moments so if you don't like, simple…don't read! It will also feature attempted rape, mild child abuse as well as the usual bloody, gory violence and language that will love about the comics and the TV series! Otherwise, enjoy!

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><p><strong>My OMC Profile<strong>

**Full Name: **David Aurélien Wray

**Nickname:** Dave

**Race: **Caucasian

**Nationality**: French-American

**Gender: **Male(obviously!)

**Age: **29

**Birthday: **June 5th, 1984

**Place of Birth: **King's County, Georgia

**Height: **5'11"

**Build: **Slender with obvious muscle tone as he likes to keep fit

**Eyes: **Blue

**Hair: **Brown with specks of blond

**Scars: **None

**Any Other Physical Distinctions: **Has a small birthmark the shape of Australia underneath his right forearm

**Occupation**: Medical student

**Family Relationships**:

**Mother: **Cordélie Geneviève Wray _nee _Bigeois

**Relationship with Mother: ** He has a special bond with his mother, tells her everything she needs to know, and was extremely happy when David eventually "came out" to her and his father. He also inherited some of her characteristics like her stubbornness, kind heart, and the overbearing will to protect others.

**Father: **Peter David Wray

**Relationship with Father: **Even though his father appeared hardened, and strict, he only did it to help David and his siblings build character. He loved his children very much, and didn't want them to come to harm in any way, shape or form. Had the same overjoyed attitude as David's mother when he'd "come out" to them, telling his son that he was very proud of him for taking this big step.

**Siblings: **Has an eldest sister named Demi, who's ten years older than him, his second eldest sister, Amanda, who's 9 years older than him, and a twin brother, Matthew, who's 3 minutes older than him.

**Relationship with siblings: **He's extremely close to all three of his siblings, especially his twin brother, Matthew, as they did practically everything together until all three of his siblings moved out to pursue a life of their own, whether it was for career or family purposes. He remembers to keep in touch with them every day or so, just to make sure they don't drift apart.

**Social Relationships**

**Sexual Orientation: **Gay

**Romantically Involved: **Currently in a loving relationship with Rick Grimes, a sheriff's deputy in King's County, Georgia for the past 8 years.

**Marital Status: **Unmarried partners

**Children: **Carl Grimes, 9. Carl was conceived by Rick and his late wife, Lori, who'd died whilst giving birth to him due to complications. He's grown to love and respect David as his other father, even went so far as to call him "Daddy" when he was younger before no calling him "Pop

**History**: **Pre-Season 1 and the "Outbreak"**

David Wray had lived in King's County, Georgia most of his life, unlike his siblings who eventually moved away in pursuit of their "dreams" whether it was career or family related. He'd grown up knowing most of its residents thanks to his father being a successful and respectable businessman, especially Rick Grimes and his wife Lori, their neighbours, who'd moved there to start a family.

After he'd graduated school, he then attended a college in Macon, Georgia to study medicine, and graduated with flying colours. It was around this time, when he'd returned to King's County now at the age of 20 that he'd heard the tragic news of the death of Rick's wife, Lori, who'd died giving birth to Carl, their new-born son, due to complications.

Back with living with his parents, until David could find a suitable job and a place to live, Rick had come over for a friendly visit, something of a tradition that'd been going on ever since Rick and Lori had moved in next door. With Carl in tow, David had joined in just as Rick was telling his parents that he was looking into hiring a nanny as it was a lot of work for a police officer to handle not only a new-born baby, but also his job as well.

Not even thinking for a second, David offered to do it, in favour of helping a close friend. His parents were a little sceptical, as they feared that he might not be able to handle it, but David argued that he'd looked after his sisters' kids without any problems, and that they were right next door if he needed any help.

Rick surprisingly agreed almost immediately; but he knew that Carl was in safe hands as David was a) one of his closest friends and b) was a graduated medical student so if Carl developed any worrying symptoms, David would be the first to know what to do. It was perfect, almost like a twist of fate.

It was about this time that David's infatuation with Rick continued to grow, even to the point that he was fantasizing about having him as his boyfriend, that he'd adopted Carl, and they'd be one happy family.

Seeing how good David was with Carl, and how Carl seemed to enjoy having him in his presence, Rick took the chance of asking David out on a date, also telling him he was, in fact, bisexual, and that Lori had also knew about this, as well as his friends and family.

Obviously, David had accepted, and pretty much the rest is history.

Seven years had passed, and their relationship was just as strong as it ever was. Rick was now the sheriff's deputy, David had been doing part-time at the local hospital and was officially Carl's other father while Carl was now in the second grade. Life was pretty normal, which wasn't unusual, well until that fateful day when the dead started to walk the earth like it was common knowledge…

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><p>The differences between my version and the TV series:-<p>

The major difference is that Carl is now nine in my version, like the comics, and not fourteen, like the TV series.

**Season 1**

Nothing really much happens differently to what transpires on the TV show. Apart from the fact that my OMC has taken over Lori's role entirely, nothing much different happens. All those that survive, and all those that die stay the same.

**Season 2**

Everything happens the same except for one major difference:-

Sophia's alive in my AU (like in the comics), and not a walker (like in the show). Instead of finding her in Herschel's barn as a walker, she's found on one of Daryl searches, taking refuge in an abandoned house about a few miles east of Herschel's farm. Again, all those that survive, and all those that die stay the same.

**Season 3**

Again, several things happen relatively the same, but like always in AU fiction, there are a few changes:-

When Michonne asks Andrea to come with her when they're both given the opportunity to leave Woodbury, Andrea leaves with her without a moment's hesitation. (This leads to Michonne not being injured by Merle's attack, and everything that Andrea does throughout the rest of the series doesn't happen in the process). Andrea's also welcomed back into Rick's group with open arms.

Because of the above, Andrea's not bitten by the zombified Milton (who she kills without hesitation), thus surviving the Governor's assault on the prison.

Seeing as Rick's not suffering from hallucinations of his dead wife, Lori, Tyreese and his group don't mistake him when he tells them to leave, therefore staying with the group for the rest of the season.

Apart from Andrea, everyone else who live or die in this season stays the same.


	2. Rise and Shine

**Chapter One**

It was amazingly quiet in the prison. That was because most of its inhabitants were either still asleep in their cells or elsewhere in the prison attending to the jobs they'd been assigned to by Rick. After allowing the Woodbury survivors sanctuary with them at the prison, Rick made it quite clear to them that as long as they stayed here, they were going to help them in any way they could; whether it be hunting, scouting, cooking, cleaning, etc.

In one particular cell, away from those that were occupied with people fast asleep, a certain couple were indulging in morning sex, trying their best to keep quiet, but everybody knew that trying to do so just made it all the more louder.

"You have to…keep quiet, darlin'," Rick gasped through his smile, thrusting into his lover who he was lying on top of, one of their legs wrapped around his waist for better access.

"Can't…help it," Dave managed to gasp back, "Feels…too good," a hand around the back of Rick's neck as he used it for leverage, leaning up and capturing Rick's soft lips with his own in a passionate, love-filled kiss.

In the throes of passion, Dave reached back and held onto the metal railing that was fixed between two of the bunkbed's poles that supported the bed above with one hand, Rick joining it with one of his own.

If they'd looked up, they would've seen their wedding rings glinting in the morning sun that shone through the windows on the opposite of the cell block.

They were both nearing completion, Rick's thrusts quickening, his hand wrapped around Dave's cock proceeding to stroke it in unison with his thrusts.

Dave couldn't take it. The passion, the heat radiating off their sweat-soaked bodies, the thrusting was too much, and a few seconds later, emptied himself onto Rick's hand as well as his own stomach and chest.

Once he started, the walls around Rick's cock tightened, and he couldn't hold it in any longer, releasing himself into Dave, who gave Rick another kiss before collapsing, both men fully sated.

Even though Rick was softening, Dave urged him to stay inside for a little while longer before eventually pulling out, moaning at the sudden loss of connection as Rick sat himself up on the bed, his fingers combing through his dark greasy, wavy hair, taking a moment to catch his breath.

Reaching over, Dave picked up and used one of the coverlets that had previously occupied their bed along with the one they were using now to wipe himself off.

"Where you goin'?" Dave asked softly, sitting himself up on the bed, using the bedcovers to cover his nakedness, "It's still early Rick, stay in bed with me a little bit longer." He then reached out with one hand, and rubbed his palm across his cheek, feeling the beard that Rick had been growing, making a mental note to shave it off in the near future.

This made Rick smile, snatching a kiss before climbing off the bed, and started slipping on his clothes. Dave admired him from the bed, knowing full well that Rick will be telling him to get dressed as there were plenty of chores to do, but did they have to be done so damn early?

In the silence Dave's stomach started groaning, the two lovers laughing in unison as it meant only one thing, "Sounds like someone's hungry for Carol's beloved cooking," Rick replied as Dave got up from the bed, and started getting dressed himself.

"You know as well as anyone that she's an extremely good cook, and once you have a taste, you won't want anything else, "Dave answered, slipping on a red-and-white plaid shirt to go with his faded blue jeans and trainers, which were white at one point, but were now decorated with dry blood and dirt.

Leaving his gun holster with his gun behind, he instead took the Walkman he'd acquired on their last supply run before heading out of the cell, "I'm gonna tend to the garden, why don't you help Carol with the breakfast, seeing as you love it so much. You never know, you might learn a thing or two," he added cheekily, watching as Dave was about to strike him with a pillow, Rick using his reflexes to dodge the blow and grab his playful attacker, using this moment to attack Dave with his lips.

Once the kiss had ended, and Dave had calmed down, he uttered softly, "Don't think that by kissing me that you've gotten away with it. I might have to tie you to the bed, leave you completely naked for the others to see."

"Ooh, sounds rather kinky. What other fantasies have you been keeping from me?"

Despite loving the contact, Dave felt that they needed to get a move on so he gently pushed Rick away, adding, "We'd better get going. The garden's not going to tend to itself."

"Okay, okay. I catch you later, huh," Rick said, giving Dave one more kiss before leaving the cell and on his way outside to the garden out front.

Dave shook his head at him, wondering what he'd do without him or Carl, and then decided not to. He didn't like thinking such thoughts, heading out of the cell as he needed to get going himself.

Unbeknownst to Rick, Dave _was _learning a thing or two about cooking from Carol, and it helped a whole lot that they enjoyed each other's company, talking about other things than the "walkers" and their dealing with the Governor, and his assault on the prison a month ago…

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><p>Rick walked outside to a quiet, calm sunny morning. Approaching the garden, he cupped his hands, dunked them into the nearby barrel of water, and splashed his face with it, relishing in how refreshing it felt against his skin.<p>

He then peered over to where they'd situated the garden, at the front of the prison, and smiled at the progress they'd achieved already. Soon, they'd be eating freshly-grown food than the canned goods they'd been leaving since all _this_ came about.

Clipping the Walkman to his belt, Rick slipped in both ear-phones, and made his way over to the garden, completely ignoring the walkers that continued to populate at the fences, as he dug into the earth. The music from some band he'd never heard of, reverberating inside his head while he continued his work on the garden.

As he looked up to stare back at the walkers, he noticed rather quickly that one of them looked different to the others. Its decaying flesh still hanging off its undead body like the others, an empty hole where his intestines should be, but unlike the rest, blood streaked down its cheeks from its eyes as though it had been crying them. It made Rick wonder for a minute before shaking the feeling away, and returning to his work on the garden.

While he was digging, Rick unearthed a 1911 handgun, and examined it for a moment, wondering whether it had been buried here recently or quite some time again. Judging by the look of it, he deduced that it must have been there ling before Rick and his group had come to the prison before chucking it into the nearby wheelbarrow.

As he continued to tend to the garden, his music quietly playing his ears, but loud enough to drown out the world, Rick felt for a brief moment like it'd reverted itself back to normality.

The dead weren't rising up and walking amongst them, the survivors weren't trying to do what was necessary to survive in such a place, and Rick and his family were going about their normal, boring lives like none of this had ever happened.

The notion soon dissipated when he looked back, and saw the walkers continuing to pile up by the fences, turning his head back to see Carl walking in his direction. Rick pulled out his earphones, looking toward his son, and telling by the look on his face that he wasn't pleased about something.

"Hey Dad, why didn't the two of you wake me up?" Carl asked, leaning against the small, wooden fence that surrounded the garden, waiting for his Dad to answer him.

It made Rick break out in a small laugh, smiling up at his son from his knelt position on the ground, causing Carl to look down at him with obvious confusion written all over his little, weary face, "What? What's so funny, Dad?"

Rick shook his head, realizing that he and Dave had managed to make love without waking up Carl in the cell next to theirs, "Nothin', it's nothin' Carl. Just a little joke me and your father shared earlier on, nothin' for you to worry about. Besides, you clearly needed it. We both know that you've been up all night reading your comic books," Rick added, both of them chuckling together as they make their way to the pig pen, Rick filling the trough with food before noticing that Carl was staring at the sow that was lying on the other side of the pen.

"Something's wrong with Violet, she's not been acting herself lately. I think she might be sick."

Rick nodded subconsciously, "I think you're right, but I have no idea what it could be. Besides, what have I told you about giving these animals a name. They're our food, not our pets."

Carl shrugged his shoulders, "I know Dad, I get it, but we've never had a pet, not even a dog. I just wanted to name something, even if it's only for a little while," he replied innocently, making Rick almost forget that their boy was only 9, not 19. So much had happened since this whole mess had started what felt like a lifetime ago, and without realizing it, Carl had matured so fast that it sometimes made him look and sound older than he originally was.

"You know, me and your father were thinking that you should join the other kids at story-time. You used to like it when we read stories to you, especially at bedtime," Rick suggested, watching his son stop what he's doing before carrying on.

"But that was then, a lot of stuff has happened since, Dad."

Rick nodded, agreeing with him before adding, "Just consider it, okay? You need something else to keep your mind off things other than your comic-books."

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><p>Meanwhile, in the outdoor confines of the prison, Carol was busy making breakfast as usual for those who were already awake, Dave hearing the sizzling of the bacon they'd managed to salvage on their last supply run, the smell of it causing his mouth to water, and his stomach to groan loudly.<p>

"Morning Carol…hmm the food smells really good," Dave uttered, standing beside her as he began prepping up the next batch for the grill, his stomach seeming to growl even louder.

"Just your regular bacon, sausage and toast, nothing special."

"I know, but when you're making it, it tastes like it was made in heaven itself," he smiles, using the tongs to take off the cooked bacon before adding some more on.

The compliment made Carol laugh, a huge grin on her face, "Oh, you are too kind for your own good. Besides, you're not so bad yourself."

Dave nodded, "I must admit I'm getting a lot better, thanks to your tutelage. Before all this happened, I could only make your basic meals. All these years together, with Rick _and _Carl, and they never complained once. God, I know we keep saying it, but I miss those days." For a moment he was transported back in time, to a time before all of this ever happened, seeing himself preparing dinner in the kitchen for when his boys got back from work and school, working part-time at the hospital allowed him that privilege.

Then Carol's voice woke him from his daydream, "Yeah, we all do but, to be completely honest with you, I'm starting to like these days too…well, apart from the walkers and the death, I mean."

"On a lighter subject," Dave started, stopping what he was doing to look her way, "How's Sophia doing? Since the Governor's attack a month ago?"

Carol sighed, a look on her face that made her look more defeated than anything else, but then it all disappeared in a blink of an eye, a small smile on her face as she answered, "She's doing…fine, as fine as a 9-year-old girl can be, I s'pose. Your Carl's been keeping her company, and those two are becoming inseparable."

Dave nodded, getting what she was saying, "It's obviously doing them good. They're still acting like 9-year-old kids, if you don't count the…weapons and survival training, that is."

"As long as our kids are being taught how to survive and be safe, it's all that matters, right?"

Their conversation's cut short when they hear voices coming from the other residents seated around the tables opposite them, as they greeted Daryl with, "Morning," and, "Hey Daryl," who'd just made his appearance.

Dave glanced at Carol, seeing that look on her eye, and touched her arm to get her attention, "Go talk to him. I'll keep an eye on the food, you've got nothing to worry about."

She smiled back, thanking Dave before heading toward Daryl, Dave shouting, "Morning Daryl," to which Daryl replied back with a simple, "Mornin'". Even though they've grown to be great friends, amongst everyone else they'd first met back in Atlanta, a greeting like that from Daryl was considered a privilege. He was being awkward, it was just his character.

As he watched the two converse, Dave, and everyone else who'd spent enough time with them, realized that these two had an obvious connection and, whether they were playing with that or just messing with them, he didn't know. All that he knew was that they were good for each other, very good, and they needed to get together and fast. Dave didn't know how long this peace was going to last, and since all of "this" had happened, they'd been going from bad to worse.

During his mulling, Dave forgot about the meat cooking in the frying pan, suddenly smelling burning, and quickly deduced that it was the meat which was now on fire. Taking it off the grill, Dave put it out with water, doing so in a fit of laughter, Carol and Daryl coming over to help, but they were laughing too.

This was certainly not a good start to an otherwise beautiful day…


	3. Venturing Out

**Chapter Two**

While they had been enjoying a quite delectable breakfast, which was surprising after Dave nearly burnt it to a crisp, Daryl had asked him out of the blue if he'd like to accompany him and a few others on a supply run which would be leaving in a short while.

Dave looked at him, nodding straight the way as though it didn't take a second for him to think about it before asking, "Does Rick know anything 'bout this?"

Daryl shook his head and shrugged, "Nah, came to you first."

Daryl was right to do so of course, but it wasn't like Rick made all of his decisions for him. He was just looking out for him and Carl, which was common-sense as he was both his husband, Carl's Dad _and_ was the sheriff back in the day. It was one of the qualities that Dave grew to love about him over the years.

"He's not going to like it, that's for damn sure, but it's about time I get to stretch my legs, doncha think? Haven't left the prison since our last visit to Woodbury," Dave replied, not looking forward to telling Rick that he'd decided to go on the next supply run with Daryl and the others, but at the end of the day, he was his own person and, as much as he loved him, Rick needed to step back and allow him to do his own thing.

"You know he's gonna use that against you, right? We nearly lost you back there, if it weren't for Andrea and her sharpshooting skills."

Dave remembered that as clear as day, and would probably remember that to his grave. He had somehow, he still couldn't remember how, managed to separate himself from Rick and the others, and found himself not only overrun by the walkers, but also pinned down by some of the Governor's men. By rights, he shouldn't have made it out of there alive, but Lady Luck was definitely on his side.

And by "Lady Luck", Dave actually meant Andrea and her impeccable sharpshooting skills with her sniper rifle, which have been improving remarkably over the passing months since her first training session back on Herschel's farm.

Ever since, he'd been trying to repay her for saving his life, but she kept on telling him that he needn't, just that she was extremely glad that she arrived when she did.

"I know, I know he does it out of love for me, but he's going to have to learn to _back off_ a little, you know. Allow me to have some space and besides, he has nothing to worry about when I know you've got my back." Dave started to laugh when Daryl waved him off, "Someone has to watch out for ya. Don't know what kinda trouble ya'll be getting yourself into."

Dave stood up from the chair, patting Daryl on the shoulder as he smiled down at him, "Yeah, yeah…I'm gonna head inside and get myself ready. Shouldn't take me long."

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><p>It took him a little longer to get ready than he first anticipated, actually starting to get a little anxious about going back out into the world after being cooped up in this place for so long.<p>

But he _needed_ this. He knew that for definite, but at the same time, he was scared shitless. What if he went out on this supply run and got himself killed or worse…bit? If that ever occurred, he didn't want Rick or Carl to see him like _them_.

He wanted them to remember how he was now, not as those things that were constantly hounding the fence surrounding the front of the prison.

He suddenly shook his head, as though it would shake that awful feeling away, before shoving the rest of his essentials in his backpack.

It was then that Andrea made her appearance, a knowing look on her face as she entered his and Rick's cell, her arms wrapped around her chest.

"I don't want to hear it, Andrea. I'm going, and that's final." He replied, hooking his backpack over his shoulder, ready to leave when he heard Andrea's voice answer him, "I'm not here to stop you, Dave, or give you a pep talk. I just wanted to catch you before you left to say be careful. Rick's going to have your hide, but I don't suppose that'll be the least of your worries."

Dave nodded, "I know, and he will. He might not understand it, but I need to do this. I need to show him and everyone else that I'm quite capable of looking out for myself. It's like…since Woodbury, everyone's been looking out for me and, I thank them for the kind gesture, but I know how to look after myself. Hell, I looked after myself and Carl back when we thought Rick was still in his coma."

Andrea approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder, a meaningful gesture, "I know exactly how you feel Dave. Remember, I've also walked a similar path when Amy was…killed by the walkers. I'll admit, it's frustrating as hell, having people worry about you every damn day, but you start to realize that it's better to have them watch your back than have yourself watch your own. We don't do it because of what happened in Woodbury or because we have to…we do it because we want to. We may not be much, but we're a family Dave and family always comes first no matter what."

It took a moment for Andrea's words to sink in before a smile was etched on Dave's face, "I thought you said you_ weren__'__t_ going to give me a pep talk?"

Andrea smiled back, "It kinda…slipped out, but the way you're thinking at the minute, you needed to hear it."

"Thank you," Dave replied, double checking that he had everything that he needed for the trip before uttering, "You always have the right thing to say to brighten up my spirits."

"Well…like I said, we're family. Just think of me as your big sister looking out for you."

The mention of his big sister caused Dave's smile to dissipate, a look of fear mixed with worry fixed on his young face as he thought of his sister, _sisters_, his twin brother and, of course, his parents. To be honest, he hadn't thought about them for a while, but he still had this feeling that they were still alive…wherever they were and that someday, he, Rick and Carl _will_ see them again.

Andrea spotted this and immediately apologized, but Dave rebuffed it, "There's nothing to be sorry for, Andrea. I have a feeling that they may still be alive, but until I see them with my own two eyes, I can only speculate…and hope." He then smiled before adding, "I'd best be going. Sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back."

"Just…be careful."

"I will," he uttered before finally leaving the cell, Andrea turning around to watch him go, a feeling of doubt washing over her as she started to wonder if she was right in letting him go. It soon past…Dave had proven himself time and again that he was quite capable of looking after himself, besides which he had some of the best people going who could look out for him.

* * *

><p>With his packed bag over his shoulder, Dave ventured back outside just as he sheathed "Rambo", a survival knife he'd nicknamed because it had some similarities to one used throughout the <em>Rambo<em> film trilogy, into its scabbard which was strapped around his thigh. A very good weapon whenever you run out of bullets.

Heading to the rendezvous point he could see that those of them who were tagging along were already there loading in what they needed for the trip, just waiting for him and whoever was coming with.

Out of the bunch he could see, the gang consisted of Daryl, Bob, Zach, Sasha and Tyreese. Bob had been found by Glenn and Daryl on a supply run a couple of weeks ago walking by himself. He seemed legit, and he being a former army medic was an added bonus to the group. Since his arrival, he had been earning his keep and seemed to prove quite useful.

Zach was Beth's boyfriend, having hit it off a couple of weeks ago after he'd arrived at the prison with the other survivors who were living in Woodbury. He wasn't involved in the Governor's first assault on the prison nor was he involved when Rick and a few others infiltrated Woodbury in order to rescue their friends.

He was a good guy in Dave's book, not many of them around except for those living with them in the prison, and just like Bob was always eager to pull some of the weight.

"So…are we all suited up and ready to go?" Dave asked, chucking his backpack into the back of one of the cars as Sasha answered with a nod.

"You not coming with, Glenn?" Dave asked, surprised that their main supply runner wasn't tagging along this time.

"Nah," he shook his head, "Me and Maggie thought it best that we sit this one out. We've both been taking it in turns these last few runs, thought it might be nice to just take a backseat this time, you know?"

Dave nodded, "I don't blame you. You both certainly earned it. All right then, let's get this show on the road," he replied, heading over to Daryl's bike whose owner was just about to cock his leg over to sit down when Dave cleared his throat to grab his attention.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, I just remember a certain _someone_ promising me my first ride on _their_ motorbike whenever the chance occurred and I can safely say that this counts as one of those chances," he replied with a big grin etched on his chops.

Daryl shook his head, returning Dave's grin with one of his own, something that he only did on occasion so that was considered a bonus, before he nodded with his head for Dave to climb on.

The younger man did, still with a smile on his face, as he secured himself by wrapping his arms around Daryl's mid-section, the man uttering back, "Don't be getting too comfortable…Rick might get jealous."

"In your dreams…" Dave quipped as Daryl started up his bike and proceeded to lead the others out of the prison, the rest of the group following in two cars that were still in relatively good condition.

As they follow the road pass through the first gate into the front of the prison where they grew the crops and kept the animals, Daryl and Dave noticed that Michonne had returned from "scouting" for the Governor, conversing with Rick while passing Carl a comic-book she must've found on her travels.

_Him and his comic-books__…__.at least it__'__ll keeps him out of trouble I suppose_, Dave mulled to himself as Daryl stop just short of the two, staring at them as they approached, the look on Rick's face Dave knew meant that he wasn't happy with this arrangement.

"Well look who's back." Daryl replied.

"Didn't find him." She replied simply, Daryl catching the look of disappointment on her face as she said it, as well as Dave and Rick did.

"Just glad that you're back in one piece." Daryl added.

"Been thinkin' about lookin' near Macon." She added, seeing the look on their faces, "What? It's worth a shot."

"Between 70 miles of walkers. You might bump into a few _unsavoury _types along the way. Is it?" Daryl asked, proving a rather valid point, Michonne both not liking those odds and the fact that _he _could be there. Waiting. Planning his next move against them for what they did.

"Dave, can I speak to you for a minute?" Rick asked out of the blue, Dave knowing this would come as he climbed off of Daryl's bike toward the animal pen where Rick stood to talk to him.

"Rick, before you say anything, I just like to say that it's my choice to go along with Daryl and the others, and there's nothing you can do to change my mind."

"I know," Rick nodded, a small smile on his face as he caressed Dave's cheek, his hand feeling rough from all the hard labour he'd endured, with the help of Dave and others, in making the animal pens for the pigs and a place for Flame, Michonne's horse, to stay as well as growing the crops, "Just be careful, I know you're quite capable of looking after yourself, I know that, but after what happened…just keep an extra eye out, don't know what might happen."

Dave was completely astonished. He wasn't expected that coming from a man who would rather throw himself in front of a bullet for those he loved than let them face the music.

"Wow…erm, wasn't really…expecting that," Dave finally uttered, earning a pat on the shoulder and a smile from Rick, "You may think that I'm being _slightly _overprotective, being your husband and all, but can you blame me? After what had happened to us, particularly our family, since all this shit began? You can decide whatever it is you want to do whether it be joining in on the supply runs or checking the perimeter or clearing out some of the walkers off the fence. Just allow me to convince you if you're making a good choice or a bad one."

Dave nodded his head, "Sure, you are my husband after all. So with me joining the supply run, I take it you think it's a good choice?"

Rick then pecked his lips before uttering, "Of course I do. It's about time you got to stretch your legs again, get your bearings, and plus you're a doctor. I'm hoping they don't, but they may need your services."

Dave held onto the hand that was currently caressing his cheek and smiled, "Thank you Rick," he then proceeded to kiss Rick back before uttering, "I'll be back before you know it."

Just then Carl came running back from helping Hershel take Flame back into her makeshift stable, wrapping his arms around Dave as best he could, "Daddy, can I come to? I wanna go with you."

Dave smiled down at their little "ray of sunshine", kneeling down so that he was eye-level before replying, "Not this time, champ. I need you to stay here and look after your Dad and the rest of the gang for me while I'm gone, okay? I shouldn't be gone for more than a day or two at the most."

He then embraced Carl, whispering into his ear, "Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it," before eventually letting go, and giving Rick a hug too, kissing him on the cheek also.

With their little talk finished, the three made their way back to the group, Dave climbing back on Daryl's motorcycle who repeated what he'd just told Michonne a few moments ago, "Just telling Michonne that I was thinkin' of taking them to the Big Spot I was tellin' ya about."

Rick nodded, "Yeah, I was thinking about venturing out and checking up on the snares. Make sure that the walkers are not eating what we've caught."

"I'm going with 'em," Michonne said right out of the blue.

"You just got here," Carl replied, sounding disappointed that she was already leaving despite being back for only a couple of minutes.

"And I'll be back," she stated with a smile, making her way to the car occupied by Bob and Zach, taking the back-seat with her katana ever by her side.

Rick and Carl jog up to the gate, Carl sliding it across while Rick stayed close just in case a walker was brave enough to want to try to get in through that way. Some try, but they either get themselves impaled on the pikes situated on either side of the dirt road or get taken care of by whoever was on guard duty.

As the group pass by Carl waved Dave off, his father reassuring him with a smile and a nod before his focus was back on the road, all of them not knowing what was to be fall them in the not-too-distant future…


	4. A New Arrival?

**Chapter Three**

It'd only been about ten, fifteen minutes since Dave had left with Daryl and the others on the supply run, but he was already thinking about his boys, and how he wanted to back at the prison. The feeling soon subsided when his subconscious told him that they'll be okay, and besides this was going to be good for him. To be out in the open, if you could ignore the hordes of walkers just_ walking _around aimlessly, mindlessly searching for their next meal.

The surrounding areas still looked beautiful though, the vibrant green-leaved trees, the tranquillity of it all, except for the sound of Daryl's motorcycle, and the cars following behind them.

It called Dave to reminisce memories from the past; him and Rick on their day-offs, which were few, taking Carl out on a picnic of all things, watching him play in the kids area of the park while they lay together on the blanket, the food they'd either made or packed set beside them, talking about this and that, and just enjoying the day with each other.

He sure missed those days. Hell, _everyone _missed those days.

* * *

><p>It took them most of the morning, but they eventually arrived at the "spot" Daryl had mentioned back at the prison, Dave seeing it as a small supermarket ironically named "The Big Spot" which had been fenced off, and had several tents with the red cross on them scattered within it, probably a safe zone at one point held by a small militia group or something to that effect.<p>

As Daryl approached the chain-linked fence with Bob by his side, chatting amongst themselves while Dave helped make sure that everyone had everything they needed out of the cars before they all gathered around to join them.

"So they all just left?" Dave heard Bob ask Daryl before Sasha answered for him, "Just listen…" which they all did, and could hear the sound of music playing in the background somewhere within.

Michonne smirked, "You drew them out."

"We put up a boom-box three days ago, Glenn rewired it with two car batteries."

"Alright, let's make a sweep," Daryl suggested, heading through the hole first with his crossbow out in front of him, ready for any surprise walkers, "Make sure it's safe, and grab what you can. We can come back in a few days for more."

Everyone was on edge as they scoped the area out, checking for stray walkers and, doubtingly, any survivors that might be hiding out here. Tyrese, with his AK-47, looked inside of the zipped-up medical tents to find nothing, but walker corpses. He shook his head, and walked on.

Michonne, with her arm over her shoulder, her hand lightly gripping her prized katana she had holstered, ready for any surprise attacks, but thankfully she was met with none.

Dave, meanwhile, sauntered toward one of the other tents with "Rambo" held up to his chest, ready to take down anything that tried to make a grab for him. Inside the tent, even with it left zipped open, absolutely reeked of death, rotten flesh and the like, and he couldn't, but gag at the smell.

_It has been a long time_, he said to himself as he tried to take in some deep breaths, but with the smell, it was proving difficult, but he managed to regain some composure. He hadn't smelt something like that since Woodbury. The walkers that gathered outside the prison fence didn't count. They weren't up close and personal. The ones littering the ground were, and Dave let out a sharp sob as he saw one of the corpses was just a little girl, barely Carl's age, causing him to look away.

_Come on Dave, get yourself together. You don't and you're going to end up just like her!_ His voice told him, but strangely, it sounded an awful lot like Rick's.

With Rambo still gripped in his hand, he began to search through the boxes, hoping against hope that he'll find some medicine of any kind. They were running low, and they needed all the luck they could find.

As luck would have it, he'd found some in the form of pill bottles, tablets, you name it, it was there. Little did he know, the corpse girl he was just thinking about, began to move. One eye was dangling from her eye socket while both her legs were broken, having to crawl to where Dave was standing. He was too immersed in finding the jackpot in medicine that he didn't notice her crawling along toward his foot.

All of a sudden, Dave got this weird feeling, like someone was watching him or worse, creeping up on him and, with _Rambo_ held back up to his chest, he slowly turned around, not making any sudden movements or noises, seeing the dead girl about to grab his leg, her jaws wide open ready to take a chunk out of it.

_Oh no you don't!_ Raising the knife, he sliced it vertically through the air, stabbing the blade right through the back of her head, silencing the walker for good. Crying over a dead little girl was one thing, but if it came alive and was trying to take a chunk out of you, that was a completely different matter.

Knowing that she wouldn't be coming back alive, he went round making sure that the other walkers were put down permanently before returning to gathering the meds.

It wasn't until Sasha had called to him that he realized that he'd been in there for quite some time. He'd been cataloguing them, making sure that the ones he took back with him were the ones they'd need the most. He'd leave the rest for next time, like Daryl had said, they'd be back in a few days anyway.

He packed the meds that he deemed important, and left the tent, heading cautiously toward the store, seeing Daryl, Michonne and Zack laughing about something one of them must've said, probably Zack. He'd been trying to guess what Daryl did before the world turned to shit and, as of yet, hadn't got it right yet.

Truth be told, Dave had been thinking to himself about it lately, but all that he'd come up with were either stereotypical or didn't suit him at all so he didn't bother to join in guessing unless it ended up insulting him or something.

It was at that moment that he saw the walkers approaching the window where Daryl and Zack had been sitting on its sill, and knew that it was time to flush them out of the store.

They took out the ones by the window in quick succession, Tyrese dragging them out and piling them up a ways from the automatic doors with the help of Bob and Zack.

"All right, we go in, stay in formation for the sweep. After that, you all know what you're supposed to look for. Any questions?" Sasha enquired, taking point.

Everyone shook their heads, heading into the store as quietly as possible while staying in formation, Dave hearing Tyrese say, "Was there ever a time that you weren't the boss of me?" to which Sasha responded, "You had a few years before I was born."

It made Dave smile, siblings joking amongst each other, made him think of his, especially Matthew his twin brother, remembering the strong connection he had with him, what all twins experience with their other half. He smiled at the memories of him and Matt growing up, the trouble they used to get into, the fights, and the laughs. He wished that he was okay, that the rest of his family were okay, and that they'll one day see each other.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back at the prison, Rick had set off into the woods to check on their snares, both his gun and his knife in their respected holsters. The council wanted him to be safe, and if that was what they wanted, then have it they shall.<p>

A few minutes later, he'd come across the first snared animal. It had been eaten by the walkers, like a cloud of locusts eating everything in sight, the animal was left bare, just bone accompanied by flies.

_Shit!_

There was nothing he could do, but soldier on to the next snare, and pray that the walkers hadn't eaten through that.

Trekking through the dense forest, boots crunching on fallen branches, hands prying away branches that threaten to scratch as he passed by, thinking about whether it was a good idea checking the snares on his own or having someone accompany him.

_Too late now_, he thought, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks at what he saw a couple of yards in front of him. A wild pig, _a large one too_, was currently lying on its side, not moving, but Rick could still hear it snorting from where he was standing. It seemed to be entrapped, but not by any of their snares. Was someone else hunting in these woods besides them?

He was just about to approach it when someone came from the side of the pig, and knelt down beside it. Rick quickly hid behind a large tree, peering around it to get a better look at them. By the way it walked, it was most certainly a walker.

From what he could gather, it was surely a woman; large dark hair that fell past her shoulders, a somewhat petite form whether from the lack of food, Rick didn't know, and was wearing drab clothes that suggested had not been washed in quite some time.

Knowing now that the food would be tarnished, Rick decided to head back to camp, and plant some more snares another time.

Just as he was about to walk away, a branch cracked underneath his foot, and he jerked to a halt, hoping that the walker didn't hear the noise as it devoured the pig. However, what happened next threw Rick for six. It talked!

"Wait. Please. Please? Please, help me," the woman pleaded, and Rick knew straight the way that this was no walker, but a survivor, just like him and the others out here.

"I know you don't know me, I get that, but can you please help me get this to my husband? We haven't eaten in days." She just had to add that last part, as though she knew he wouldn't help her. He would've, probably, but he what made him hesitate was the question on anyone's mind who was in a similar situation.

How can you trust someone you don't even know? For all Rick knew, she was luring back to her camp where the rest of the group would jump him, take all of his stuff, kick the living shit out of him and leave him for the walkers. You just don't know.

She also had to say the word _husband_, making him think of Dave. He'd only been gone a few hours and he was missing him like crazy. He just hated the fact that he wouldn't be able to find out if he was okay or not until he got back from the supply run. His heart dropped at the mere thought of him turning up injured or worse, dead or bitten.

He shook his head, as though it would help get rid of the thought, before his attention was back on the dishevelled woman, pleading with her sad, puppy dog chocolate brown eyes that looked almost black to Rick.

He approached her slowly, rummaging into his sachet whilst looking from left to right, making sure that no-one was going to get the drop on him if it was a trap or any stumbling walkers for that matter.

He grabbed the sandwich wrapped in tin foil, and handed it to her, "Here." When she didn't make a grab for it, he took a step forward, urging her to take it, "Go ahead."

The woman reached out, her dainty hand outstretched as she eventually took the wrapped-up food, and responded in a voice so soft, Rick wouldn't've heard it if he wasn't listening, "Thank you."

As Rick studied her, he could see that she was probably about Dave's age, if not slightly older, and she had this _air_ about her that Rick couldn't quite put his finger on it, the faraway look in her eyes only sealed his opinion of her.

After a moment of silence, she pocketed the food in what appeared to be her husband's coat, and asked again in a soft voice, "Do you have a camp around here?"

Rick took a second to decide whether it was or wasn't a good idea to tell her before deciding on the former, with a little hesitation, "Yeah," he answered simply, leaning from one leg to the other, his eyes still watching the surrounding area for any _surprises_.

"Could we possibly come back with you?" She stopped to look at the ground again before letting a deep sigh, "We've been doing... very badly on our own."

"I'd have to meet him. I need to ask him some questions, both of you."

"What questions?"

"Just three. When we get there."

The woman only nodded.

"Have you got a gun on you?" She slowly shook her head at his question. "Can I make sure?" He asked, she nodding her head again.

Rick reached out and touched up both her arms to check if she hadn't concealed anything in her sleeves before patting up her back and sides, not needing to do her legs as she was wearing a long beige-coloured skirt which Rick figured was once white, but was now caked in what appeared to be mud? Dried blood? Quite frankly he didn't want to know.

"Ha," he uttered under his breath when he fished out a knife out of the holster which was wrapped around her slight waist, which had a small blade with jagged edges, but could still do a lot of damage.

"Look, I don't know you, so I'm just gonna tell you this. You try anything – anything - you're gonna be the one who loses," he added, his voice stern, to the point, wanting to intimidate the unkempt woman just enough so she knew that he meant business.

She whispered again, "I don't have anything else to lose."

Rick stood upright, head shaking right to left as he said, "No, you do." He then passed her back her knife, "Go ahead." He urged her, she again reaching out to take it before holstering it.

He gestured her to lead the way, following shortly behind, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his forehead from that intense moment. No-one had ever made him feel that tense since…his encounter with the Governor…


	5. The First Casualty

**Chapter Four**

After they'd killed the walkers inside the store and piled the rotted corpses just outside, the group then used the time to wander around, some collecting trollies, to grab the supplies that were the most important; food, water, medicine, etc.

Dave had taken a trolley, like Michonne, and was now wandering the clothes section. Like the rest of the store, everything was still intact except that some of the clothes was strewn on the floor. Luckily they're not what Dave was interested in.

On his way here, he was thinking about getting Carl something. Just a t-shirt with something he liked on the front or something fairly similar. Plus the fact that he was in need of some new clothes, but for now, a t-shirt would suffice.

As he was browsing through the clothes, which were remarkably still in great condition, he began humming a song he used to sing to Carl when he was little. A song his French mother used to sing to _him_ when he was around Carl's age.

It caught Michonne's attention as she sauntered by with her own trolley, a few essentials already inside. She leant against the handle, and asked as softly as she could, "What's that song you're humming? If you don't mind me asking."

Dave shook his head, "I don't mind. It's a French lullaby I used to sing to Carl when he was younger. My mother used to sing it to me when I was his age. Did the trick every time."

She watched her as she smiled, a gentle smile, which made her look beautiful under all those dreadlocks, Dave saying softly, "I haven't seen you smile like that in a while." He then put down the plaited red and white shirt, and decided to go with the t-shirt with his son's favourite heroes etched on the front…The X-Men!

"Yeah, feels like a lifetime. Just the thought of you singing. I bet you have a lovely voice."

"Well, I don't mean to brag, but people have often told me that I should have been a singer rather than a doctor. I could've made a household name for myself." He wasn't at all serious, but he and Michonne liked to play along, causing them to laugh amongst themselves.

"Anyway, I thought I might as well bring something back for Carl whilst I'm here, and where am I going to find another shirt like this in _his _exact size? Must be fate, right?"

"I don't believe in fate." Michonne added nonchalantly, Dave nodding in agreement, "Yeah, me neither." He then proceeded to add it to the trolley, both of them leaving the clothes section to find anything else that could be of use to them.

* * *

><p>Elsewhere in the store Sasha and Tyrese were browsing the electronics aisle, bickering amongst themselves as siblings usually do while Daryl and Zach occupied the tinned food. Bob, on the other hand, had finished looking at gardening implements and was on his way to the next aisle when he saw several shelves full to the brim of all different alcohol.<p>

Wines, beers, spirits, "alcopop". You named it they probably had it on display. As he walked slowly, but surely past it, his eyes particularly looking at all the wine variants, which appeared to be plenty.

After what felt like an age, Bob eventually stopped, and took one of the bottles off the shelf. Before Daryl and Glenn had met him on the side of the road, asked the three questions needed to be allowed to stay at the prison, and answering those questions correctly allowing him sanctuary, Bob had spent a lot of time on his own. Everywhere he went, he eventually ended up on his own, so he began drinking. Finding that being drunk eased some of the loneliness, if only a little.

He was afraid to admit it, but he enjoyed its influence. It made him forget about the fucked-up world they lived in now, reminisced about the old one. His old life. He became dependent on it until it was the only thing he could think about other than the "walkers". Like it was his lifeline or something.

He was thinking about taking the bottle, to have when fate would rear its ugly head, kill everyone he'd grown to respect and even love, leaving him on his own again. He was really considering it until he saw Dave coming down the other way, and decided against it.

"You know, people won't judge you if you took a bottle." He heard himself say, "It's not like it's going to hurt anyone."

"No, it's okay. I have to admit, it was nice to be under its _influence_. Nothing or nobody to worry about. Just me and my thoughts…but those times have changed."

Dave nodded, patting him on the shoulder before turning back around and heading in the direction he originally was taking before Bob had caught his eye looking at the wine bottle.

Bob took one last look at it, was pleased with his decision not to take it before returning to the section of shelf it was originally placed. Unfortunately, he did so with a little more force than usual, and the section of shelf collapse. The bottles broke and smashed, their contents spilling all over the floor before the entire shelf tipped over, Bob instinctively reaching out to try and stop it from falling, but it was futile.

Dave, who had just rounded the corner to wonder the next aisle, left his trolley, returning to where he'd left Bob to find him trapped under the large shelf, hearing him let out a cry before a loud crash followed shortly afterward.

He found that Daryl, Zach and Tyrese were already at the scene, Daryl taking out his flashlight to get a better look at Bob's predicament, "You all alright? You cut or somethin'?" He asked as Bob answered rather matter-of-factly, "No, no man, but my foot is caught."

"All right. He's just caught. Come on, help me lift this," he asked Tyrese and Zach as they proceeded to lift the first shelf with ease. Dave could only stand by and watch as he could see that the trio had everything under control.

"What happened?" They heard Sasha call out to which Daryl replied, "Everyone's all right! We're over in wine and beer!"

Unbeknownst to the group, the loud crash had alerted the walkers that were currently occupying the roof above, all turning around and heading in the direction of the noise.

"I was moving fast, man. I drove right into the drinks."

Tyrese knelt down, "Man, you lucked out. If this thing had come down on you the wrong way..." but before they could think of what might have been, something fell through the roof right above Dave who managed to move out of the way in time. With his back against the shelf opposite the one Bob was currently under, they all look up to find that it was a walker, dangling from its entrails which were hooked onto the store's pipes above.

"Yeah, uh, guys…we should probably get going now." Zach stated from somewhere behind Daryl and Tyrese.

"Bob's still stuck. Help me get him out of there." Daryl pointed out, heading back over to pull up the shelf with Tyrese and Zach by his side.

The others were just about to hurry back to their trolleys to grab whatever they could before more walkers started to _rain _through the roof, landing in different parts of the store. Some landed on their heads, which exploded on impact causing blood, brain matter and bits of decomposed skull to fly everywhere, some landed on top of the shelves, while others landed on the floor otherwise intact. Some may have lost some limbs along the way, but they managed to move toward the group regardless.

Realizing that concentrating on helping Bob would put them at risk of either being bitten, becoming overwhelmed or both so the others began backing away, deciding to get rid of many as they could while he was still, technically, out of harm's way. For the moment, that is.

"Hey!" Bob called out, just as Dave looked up to see an assailing walker descending upon him through the hole it'd created when it fell through…

* * *

><p>"I saw those sculptures at the airport once. My favourite was the kids playing leapfrog," Rick was telling the lady as he continued to follow her to wherever it was she was taking him. In the back of his mind, he knew this maybe a trap, but also knew that this woman was no real danger, he hoped. She looked like a woman who'd lost everything, and was hanging on to what bit of life left she had with her husband, but when Rick thought about it, that just made her sound even more dangerous.<p>

"What Eddie and I had to do, did you do things like that?"

Rick didn't want to answer that, might give her the wrong impression, and do something that she might regret so he opted for a question instead, "Did you?"

She didn't give him an answer, just turned away and looked on ahead, asking rather softly, "Do you think you get to come back from them?"

"I hope so," he uttered.

"I hope we answer your three questions to your satisfaction," she added, Rick getting the feeling that something wasn't right about this whole situation, his fingers caressing the metal coating of his gun, praying to God that he didn't have to use it.

* * *

><p>"Hey!" Bob continued to shout as Dave grabbed <em>Rambo<em> and shoved it into the eye of the walker that tried to flatten him on its descent from the ceiling before twisting it. The knife was proving very useful for him as the others, except Michonne, were too busy wasting bullets on them.

He was just glad that he managed to manoeuvre out of the way in time. If he hadn't, he would've probably had a chunk ripped out of his head, and that would've been the end of him. Not the time to think about that as there were more pressing matters to attend to as he kicked the next walker in the leg to get it to fall down before shoving the knife into the back of the head.

Elsewhere, he could hear guns blazing in the background, undoubtedly coming from Sasha and Tyrese while he could see Daryl using a mixture of his crossbow, if they were out of range, and his own knife, when they were up close.

Michonne was effectively dispatching her group of surrounding walkers with her katana, slicing off heads in all matter of directions. Her gun was used only as a last resort.

Unbeknownst to the others, a legless walker was crawling its way towards Bob, a huge incision in its head which was probably the reason why it'd turned into what it was.

"Hey!" Bob called out to the others again, but they were too busy fighting off their walkers while this one continued its pursuit, his jaws opening, his arms reaching, but Bob managed to hinder it somewhat by placing his palm upon its head.

He then proceeded to use his other hand to start peeling back the sagging bit of skull, whilst holding back the urge to vomit because of its decaying odour, enough so he could punch in its brains, thus killing it.

However, Daryl robbed him of that victory, which wasn't at all bad considering, as he pulled it away from Bob, lifted up his foot just enough to force it back down, crushing the walker's head to mush.

"Let's get Bob!" Zach cried out from down the aisle, using his revolver to shoot several walkers in the head, brain matter and blood splattering everywhere.

Suddenly, a loud creaking noise came from above, everyone looking up to see that a crashed helicopter was threatening to come through too, the group knowing that they needed to get Bob and everyone out before it did.

Zach, using the adrenaline his body was filling him with to lift up the shelf high enough for Daryl and Tyrese to pull him out. Zach was just about to hurry to the others when a walker crawled out from underneath the shelf, and grab his foot. Before he could kick it off, it bit down into his Achilles tendon and ripped it out, blood spurting out as it used its other hand to grab the other and pull him onto his front.

Zach, screaming out in absolute agony, tried to crawl away, but the walker crawled all over him instead and masticated into his neck, tearing a chunk of it also. There was nothing they could do. He was too far gone now to be saved, and the helicopter was going to fall through any minute, they needed to get out fast.

Dave, who was still over on the other side of the shelf, managed to knife another walker through the temple not even realizing that the ceiling was slowly caving in under the weight of the helicopter.

Parts of the ceiling were already falling, creating a barricade between him and the rest of the group, looking over to see the shocked look on their faces when they realized that he wasn't going to make it through.

"Get going guys! I'll find another way out! Just go!"

He then began running in the opposite direction praying to God that there was. He heard their voices, especially Michonne's, calling out his name, for him to come back, but it wouldn't've mattered. He knew in his heart he wouldn't have made it. So this was his "Plan B".

Sprinting as fast as his legs could go, Dave turned to his right, and saw the plastic flaps dangling over the doorway which obviously led into the large freezers out back, dashing toward it at full pelt. A walker, with one eye dangling out of its socket, came out of one of the aisles, reaching out to grab him, but Dave ducked under its arms, seeing more up ahead, gaining momentum, using it to slide across the floor and through the white plastic flaps.

Clambering to his feet his escapism bringing a smile to his face, but it just as quickly faded when he saw what he'd have to get through to get to the exit which beckoned to him like a beacon across the way.

There, in the distance, were the two large steel doors which opened out to allow the lorries to back up so the workers could easily haul the meat in, but to get to it, he'd have to make his way through what he thought were a hundred walkers…

Maybe more…


	6. A Sudden Departure

"It's just ahead." She affirmed, leaving the woods through the opening in the trees, and pointed toward the makeshift camp that was situated next to a small river, which looked to Rick like it wasn't at all salubrious.

"Eddie. Oh, thank God you're still here. This is Rick. He's gonna help us. Everything's gonna be okay."

Rick could hear herself saying as she approached a wooden crate which seemed to have something inside, but he couldn't quite tell from where he was standing. As he scoped the camp, he found it particularly strange that, even though she spoke frequently about it being just her and her husband Eddie, there seemed only to be one bed set up in the tent, as well as one bag settled at the end of it.

_What the hell is going on here? _He asked himself, but before he could answer, a feral scream came from in the direction of where the mudded woman had kneeled down, and turned just in time to see her brandishing the knife he'd given back to her when he'd checked her for any other weapons, charging straight at him.

She would've stabbed him too, if he hadn't had grabbed her wielding hand, and threw her down on to the ground, "Damn it!" He hollered, taking out his gun and aiming it straight at her.

She began crying then, knife still in hand, "I wanted to take the boar, I just knew – I knew I'd get you here so much quicker." She looked up at him then, no tear streaks falling, as though she'd had none left, and continued explaining, "He's starving. He's slowing. He needs something alive."

Rick looked around the small encampment again, just in case he was missing him, but he couldn't see anyone else except for the pair of them.

"Please, I told you, I can't be without him. And so I kept him. It was wrong. I can't do things like this. And - and you have to do things like this. Let me be like him. Don't stop it. Don't end it after," she said, gripping the knife tighter in her hand as she slowly raised it toward her stomach.

Rick knew what she was about to do, but for some unknown reason, he just stood there, aiming his gun at her, watching her do it as it might invoke some real sense into her, but she didn't seemed fazed by it at all.

"No."

"Please, just let me be with him." The blade was now millimetres away from her body, but before Rick reached forward to stop her, she plunged it deep into her abdomen, emitting a sharp gasp as she felt the hot, burning sensation course through her.

"No!" Rick let out a cry, but it was far too late.

As her blood seeped out of the wound, she collapsed to the side still holding on the knife as Rick turned away. He'd seen so much death since all this happened; only a few, thank God, before then when he was still in the police force, and he was sick of it.

For a full month, they'd been no accidents, no deaths within the confines of the prison, giving Rick hope that they wouldn't be seeing death until it was of natural causes.

Now that hope seemed to shatter into a million pieces as he watched this poor woman, who appeared to have gone through Hell literally, take her own life because she couldn't live any more without her husband.

It was more contradicting in Rick's case. Yes, he'd still have Carl, and he loved him more than life itself, _obviously_, but Dave was his soul-mate. Someone who read him like a book, who connected with him, who loved him unconditionally. Would he ever find that again with someone else if anything happened to Dave? Could he even?

_No, because nothing's going to happen to him. As long as we all look after and protect each other, nothing like this is going to happen! _

What made it so sickening was the fact that most of the people who were killed weren't killed by the walkers. Most of them were killed either by their own hands or by other survivors. _Is this what we've become? Can't we all just get along without leading it to violence and death? We've managed it, why can't others?_

Wiping away a tear that threatened to fall with the tips of his fingers, he holstered his weapon, and knelt down so he was almost to her level. What else could he do, but provide her a little comfort before she departed this world?

"What are…what were the questions?" She gasped, "The three questions?"

"How many walkers have you killed?"

"Eddie killed…Eddie killed them all. Until…"

"How many people have you killed?"

The woman took a few breaths before answering, "…me…just me…"

"Why?"

For a moment, she seemed to have stopped breathing, a single tear now streaking a clean line down her dirty face, dripping off the end of her nose before she started gasping again, "You don't- you don't get to come back. You don't get to come back from things. You don't...don't…"

Her eyes staring up at him before her head slumped, now staring at the ground as she took her last breath, body as still as the trees that surrounded them. She was dead, that much was obviously clear to Rick as he took a moment to grieve.

He then slowly looked toward the space she'd knelt down, and saw something moving inside a small, burlap sack, and hazard a guess that it was Eddie…well, what was left of him anyways.

Honouring her word, Rick left her camp as it was, didn't take any of their stuff as they had plenty back at the prison. If he'd looked behind, he would've seen the sack move occasionally, and also groan, but he didn't. All he was thinking about was getting back to Carl and the others, and wait for Dave to return with the scouting group.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back at said prison, it was "story time" for all the kids, headed by Carol who was in the middle of telling them a story. He wasn't going to go, <em>story time<em> being for young kids, but Carl had had enough of reading his comics, for now, and wanted to see what was all the fuss about.

As he snuck in, ducking into one of the aisles seeing one of the guys was leaving for reasons Carl didn't know, he continued to watch and listen as he quietly approached.

He could see Carol making sure that the guy was gone before putting the book to the side, and opening up the box she'd been sitting on. It opened out, and inside was knifes in all shapes and sizes.

"Today...we are talking about knives- how to use them, how to be safe with them, and how they could save your life," she replied, picking up a particular one with a curved blade, as one of the kids spoke up, "Ma'am, should I take watch now?"

Carol nodded, "Yes, Luke, you do that," but before she could continue, she was interrupted by Patrick, who looked a little hot under the collar, "Ma'am, may I be dismissed? I'm not feeling too good."

"Sometimes you're gonna have to fight through it. What if you wind up out there alone? You just give up because you're feeling bad?"

"No, it's just I don't want to yack on somebody," he replied matter-of-factly, some of the kids actually inching themselves away from him, in case it was true.

"Go on." Patrick pushed himself off the chair, and into the direction of the door as Carol continued, "Okay, today we're gonna learn how to hold a knife, how to stab and slash and where to aim for." She gestured the movements with the knife in her hand, but before she could carry on, she looked up and standing there was Carl, who couldn't believe what he was seeing. Even Sophia was there, sitting up in front, only seconds ago eager for her Mom to show her how to wield it.

"Please, don't tell your Dads…especially Rick," but before she could explain anymore, Carl turned and ran out, shocked at seeing what "story time" really meant.

* * *

><p>The steel doors located at the back of the store suddenly flew open, a single body diving out before shutting them behind him. Knowing for sure that they weren't going to open it easily, just pile on it instead, which only gave Dave seconds before the doors gave way.<p>

Literally covered in all manner of blood and gore, Dave had miraculously survived being scratched and bitten by using the shelving, fridges, whatever that was high enough to keep out of their reach whilst using his knife and a tenderizer on those that got too close.

He still couldn't believe it as he continued running, crawling, whatever he could do to get as far away from that place as possible, and see if the others were still here.

_I hope to God they're still here_, Dave thought to himself as he reached the front of the store around the side of it, the tents obstructing his view of the parking lot, making it difficult to see if they were still here.

As he moved around them, he could just see them climbing into the car, Daryl sitting down on his bike, ready to drive off when Dave started shouting and screaming, "Hey! I'm over here! I'm over here!" but as they were on the other side of the parking lot, he doubted that they could've heard him as they were already moving out, their vehicles disappearing off into the distance, back to the prison, minus two passengers.

He collapsed onto his knees and huddled over, exhaustion finally catching up to him as he realized that he may never see Rick or Carl or any of his friends again…tears starting to stain his blood-soaked cheeks…the sound of the fire currently burning inside what was left of the store crackling inside.

He slowly lay down on the ground, almost welcoming it as he turned over onto his back, looking up into the sky to find that it was completely cloudless. He was exhausted, the fight inside to get out taking most of the energy out of him.

He wanted to get up, carry on walking his way back to the prison, back to his family, Rick and Carl, his friends, but he just didn't have the energy.

"I can't…" he took a few deep breaths, "I can't…I'm sorry Rick…Carl…"

He was about to fall asleep from complete exhaustion when he heard a voice, one he recognised in a heartbeat…Rick's.

_What are you doin'? You're not givin' up now, are you?_

It took only a moment before Dave answered, "No, but I'm just…exhausted…"

_You have to get up. You have to get back to us, to me and Carl. We can't do this without you, I won't allow it_, and Dave knew it too. If they go back to the prison without him, Rick will do everything in his power to get to him, and he wouldn't care about the consequences of doing so.

"You know…you know it's…not their fault, right? Dave said to no-one in particular because no-one was really there, only in his subconscious, "If anything were to…happen to me…would've happened…I should say."

_Well, nothing's happened to you yet, and I know. I know they probably did everything they could do, but you're here now, and they've gone on without you._

Dave took this moment to gather what was left of his strength to sit upright, gather his surroundings, "You see Rick, I don't blame them, not one bit. A fucking helicopter just collapsed through the roof, and there are walkers everywhere. They needed to grab what they could, and get the hell out of dodge because if they didn't, if they stuck around trying to find out if I survived or not, they could've been coming home with a lot less…supplies and people."

_You've got a point there, but I'm still not going to like it, well, the real _me_ that's waiting for you back at the prison._

"Well, I'll deal with that when I get back," he replied as he clambered slowly to his feet, eyeing the medical tent he'd occupied when they arrived earlier. He'd left himself some supplies for the next trip back, but now he was in this certain predicament, he thought it best to grab it anyway.

The supplies consisted of a full bottle of cold water, found in the refrigerator, a couple of granola bars, and some medicine, if need be. Taking one last look at the store, seeing that the walkers who'd survived were now crawling or lumbering their way toward him, Dave taking this moment to leave, now founding the energy needed to head in the direction back to the prison.

He knew that he could make quite a lot of ground if he kept on moving. Yes, he was already exhausted, but with the walkers behind him, he had the motivation needed to cover some ground.

He thanked Rick for all the camping trips they went on with Carl which included literally miles of walking, hiking, the occasional climbing, cooking, all the goods in surviving in the wild so at least Dave was going to be alright in that department…

It was the walkers and the occasional survivors he might find along the way…


	7. Tragic News

After coming back from checking the traps for caught food, Rick returned to tending the animals, and the crops, holding the bucket of "slop" as he sauntered his way to the pigs, ready to pour it into the trough, when he threw a glance toward the walkers that continually hovered by the wire fence, stopping him in his tracks.

That one particular walker with the "blood-soaked" tears still standing there, trying to claw his way in like the others, staring blankly at Rick as it did so.

_What the hell is up with that?_ Rick found himself asking, wiping the sweat forming on his forehead with his gloved hand before pouring the pigs' food into the trough, putting it down beside him when it was empty, and leant onto the fence, still staring at the walker.

_Is it something that I should be worried about? That we should be worried about?_

He also noticed Violet lying in the corner of the pen, not moving, not breathing. _Carl's gonna be devastated_.

He didn't have time to ponder about her or the walker as he heard Andrea calling out his name from the top of the guard tower, followed by the fact that the group on the supply run had returned, although Rick thought it rather strange that they were back so early. Earlier than usual when on supply runs.

He didn't much care as he was just glad Dave had returned in one piece.

As he walked a little closer, watching as the gate was being opened by two men stationed there, he saw Daryl riding out in front on his motorbike while the two cars trailed shortly behind him, stopping halfway toward the second gate which lead into the prison itself.

But what was strange about it was the obvious fact that Dave wasn't sitting behind Daryl like he'd done when they set off hours earlier. _Maybe he's sitting in one of the cars. Probably didn't like the way Daryl liked to drive his bike._

His heart fell to his stomach when they all climbed out of the cars, and everyone was accounted for…except for Dave and Zach.

_No…no, no, no, no…_

"Where's Dave?"

Daryl had climbed off his bike, and ambled his way slowly toward Rick, a little cautious to what he might do if he told him exactly what went down at the store, and with his husband.

"Where is he Daryl?" He asked again, edging closer to him, the look in his eyes warning Daryl that he was about to do something that he might regret

Raising his hands up he began his explanation, watching as his dear friend fell apart right in front of him, collapsing onto his knees, Daryl following suit, his hands now on both Rick's shoulders to give him comfort, if only a little.

"I'm sorry Rick, really I am. We tried calling him back but…but we had no choice, we had to get out of there. Before he left, he shouted that he would find another way out, but…looking at the circumstances at the time, the chances were very slim."

Rick looked up, tears staining his cheeks as he replied, spitting a little as he did, "So there's still a chance…a chance that he could still be alive?" With that in mind, Rick wiped the remnants of his tears with the back of his hand before standing back up to his feet.

Heading back to the stable he took his gun holster, which he'd hung up there while he was tending his chores, off and fastened it around his waist before he returned, walking right past Daryl, and to one of the cars.

"What are you doin' Rick?"

"What do you think?" He replied, knowing full well that they all knew what he meant, opening the door and climbing in, but was stopped from closing it by Daryl, who was holding it with one hand, the other placed on top of the car.

"I hope you're not doin' what I think you're doin'? Look Rick, we're sorry, I'm sorry for having to leave Dave behind. It's one of the many things I'm goin' to haveta regret, but if you go out there, Carl's not only going to lose one father, he's going to lose two. Do you really want that? Huh?" Daryl clarified, it may not be what Rick wanted to hear right now, but he could see, as well as everyone present, that he wasn't thinking straight.

He had every right to be. He'd just been told that Dave, the love of his life, had been left behind, without no knowledge of whether he was still alive, and he was going to go out there alone, and not thinking straight.

He may not have felt this personally himself, but Daryl knew that this act was blatant suicide.

Rick sat back in the front seat; quiet, Daryl seeing it in his eyes that he was contemplating on the idea. After what felt like an eternity, Rick gradually nodded his head, "Okay…okay." He then climbed back out, and slammed the door, making the car rock as he did.

Michonne then approached him, a soft hand upon his shoulder, causing Rick to look up at her, a small smile on her face as she replied softly, "We _will_ get him back, Rick. Safe and sound, but we can't do that if we're tired, low on ammo, and not thinking straight. It'll be dark soon, so you, me and Daryl will go at first light. If what I've heard about Dave is true, then you have nothing to worry about. Do you hear me?"

Rick nodded as she continued, "He _can_ look after himself. He, like the rest of us, is a survivor. He knows the "do's and don'ts" of staying alive. I have a feeling that he is alive, and probably making his way back here."

The others; Sasha, Bob, and Tyrese, had left the three of them to talk it out, seeking out their love ones or finding the others to tell them the news of Zach's untimely death and the fact that they had to leave one of their own behind. As they spoke, they all felt the same thing: guilt. Dave, when or if he came back, would tell them that it wasn't their fault. They didn't know that he was still alive, and even if they did, the place was overrunning with walkers. They needed to get the supplies and medicine back to the prison or else everything that happened would've been in vain.

Dave, just like his husband, was selfless like that.

"Come on," Michonne urged Rick, "let's get you something to eat and some rest. It's been a long day…"

Daryl watched as Michonne escorted Rick back to the prison, Andrea joining them from the guard tower before he decided that, when the time was right, he was going to find Dave on his own. Being an expert tracker _and_ able to find Sophia when she'd gone missing, he was the obvious guy for the job.

He just hoped that Michonne could buy him some time to find Dave. If he knew Dave like he knew Rick, he'd probably stick nearby the roads, using the trees for coverage if he caught wind of any _unsavoury _types along the way. That was Daryl's best bet…

* * *

><p><em>He's gonna be alright, he knows how to take care of himself, and he'll be back before you know it,<em> Rick mulled, getting ready for bed, but knew it in himself that he wouldn't be getting any sleep. As he was about to climb into bed, _alone_, he could hear shuffling going on outside, and thought that it was probably someone heading to the bathroom or showers, slipping under the covers, wishing that Dave was lying next to him.

_Don't worry, I'm gonna find you as soon as first light appears_. Rick soon closed his eyes in a bid to, at least, get some sleep.

Unbeknownst to him and the other residents of the cell block, the shuffling was coming from Patrick, Carl's friend with the glasses, who was feeling a hell of a lot worse than he did before, sweating profusely as he staggered toward the showers. He felt weak, as though his legs were going to collapse from under him at any moment, using the walls as leverage along the way, feeling his strength wane with every few steps.

He managed to make it to the showers, stripping down to his boxers, reaching out to turn one of the showers on. It spluttered into life, raining down cooling water as Patrick stood under it, it cooling him somewhat, but it wasn't enough. He still felt like he was about to burst into flame _a la Human Torch_.

Then he couldn't breathe. He felt his throat closing up, breathing in, but not being able to breathe out as he gasped for air. He suddenly felt lightheaded, his eyes lolling to the back of his head as he collapsed onto his back, gasping for a few more breaths before his movements stopped.

A few moments later he was dead and yet, no-one noticed. How could they? It was the middle of the night, and the majority of the residents were either asleep or otherwise occupied.

Like everyone who died, whether being bitten or not, _Patrick's_ eyes opened, blood seeping out of them as "he" clambered sluggishly to his feet. He seemed to stand still for a second, as though "surveying" where he should go before stumbling back out the showers through the only exit, body still perspiring, eyes tearing blood, on his way back to the cells…

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Sorry for the terribly long update. I've been busy working on other projects on Fanfiction, _Friday the 13th III, WWE Avalon, Glee, _etc. before uploading them. I'll endeavour to upload them sooner, and thanks to those of you who are still with me, I'm still alive so don't worry about any these projects being on hiatus. Thanks again, and I'll see you soon.


	8. Infected

He didn't know how he actually managed it, but Dave managed to sleep throughout the night without fighting off wandering walkers or dodging other survivors. He'd found an abandoned car that didn't stand out like the rest, a blanket that wasn't too damp lying in the back of it whilst using his bag for a pillow. It was incredibly uncomfortable, but it was better than nothing. Climbing into the back of the blue SUV he lay back onto his "pillow" as he covered himself with the blanket, which smelt faintly of petrol and fresh air, which made a nice change from rotting flesh. That, he thought, he would never get used to.

When he finally managed to close his eyes, and get some sleep, all he kept dreaming about was different situations either involving Carl and/or Rick, as well as the others back at the prison. He'd wake up in a cold sweat when one dream was done, but when he realized where he was and that it wasn't real, he'd calm himself with deep breaths, and fall back asleep.

He did this a few times throughout the night, but managed to stay asleep for the reminder of it after waking up from the last dream, which involved Carl as a walker in which he had to shoot him to keep himself and Rick alive, until the blinding morning sun gleamed through the windows.

It was better than hearing the beeping of an alarm clock, which most definitely would've attracted some undivided attention from the lingering walkers out there.

As he sat up, stretching out his arms and legs, and hearing some satisfying cracks, he scratched his head to find his hair all dishevelled before taking a look around to find that there were no walkers outside hovering around the car, trying to force their way in.

Gotta move quickly. Sooner or later, they're gonna be here, and I don't want to be around when that happens.

Deciding to take the blanket with him, in case he may need it again, he folded it up as tightly as he could so it could fit in the bag, reaching out for the door handle, pulling it toward him as slowly, and as quietly as possible.

It clicked open, and as he shoved his head out, he couldn't see or hear any walkers, which was definitely good news before clambering out.

The morning breeze was slightly chilly, a welcome sensation after days of warm weather and barely any wind, but the sun was already rising, its light peeking through the trees.

Looking to his right, in the direction of where the store was, he could see nothing but empty cars and motionless walkers. To his left, which he was pretty sure lead back to the prison, he could see more empty cars and motionless walkers, but at least that was all he was seeing.

"Don't worry boys, I'm coming back to you," he promised himself before heading into the trees, far enough in so that he was hidden from any survivors who'd might pass by, but not too far so that he might lose track of the road. Sillier things have happened in the past, but he didn't want to chance it either way. As he travelled through the trees, he began to estimate how far he had left to travel to the prison, and soon enough, he gathered that he needed to walk another ten, fifteen miles, give or take.

He remembered that it wasn't very far to the shopping centre where they were scouting for supplies, must've took them an hour or so, give or take, but they were travelling at much faster speeds than walking so he estimated that he still had half a day or so to make it.

Trouble was, would he meet any resistance along the way?

Guess I can only find out when I meet some.

* * *

><p>It had just gone quarter to six in the morning, the sun just barely peeking from the top of the trees, not shining much light into the prison as Rick was already up out of bed, and getting himself ready. He packed his bag light with the bare essentials; food, water and a first-aid kit, just in case. Anything else was not important, except for his gun which he had secured in its holster.<p>

In the cell behind him, he could hear the sound of the alarm clock ringing, signifying that it was now six o'clock, turning it off so it didn't alert the others.

Pulling the sheet over to look inside the cell adjacent to his and Dave's, he could still see Carl fast asleep and still in the position he'd left him when he was soothing him to sleep. He obviously didn't take the news of his other dad not returning too well and thus Rick had to calm him down in order for him to at least get some rest.

Before Carl did eventually fall asleep, Rick whispered his reassurances and promises that he'll go out and bring his dad home safely. Now he needed to be up to carry on with the chores while Rick was away.

"Carl? Up and at 'em. It's time to get up."

He made Rick smile when he turned over in his bed, and muttered, "Just 5 more minutes." He already had about 9 hours sleep which meant he'd had plenty.

"Come on, Carl. The chores ain't gonna do themselves."

"Okay, okay," Carl mumbled, getting out of bed, Rick smiling again when he saw that he was wearing the Captain America pyjamas Dave had picked out on a supply run a while back. It wasn't essential, everyone had enough clothes to wear and wash after use, but Dave just wanted him to have something that might take his mind off their current situation, which had involved the Governor and his so-called "community".

After Carl had changed into his "working" clothes, which comprised of a blue t-shirt undershirt and a brown shirt over it, his worn jeans and his favourite trainers, which had seen better days, he followed his Dad out to the garden upfront.

"Are you going out to find Daddy?" He asked innocuously, looking down at the ground as Rick wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving him some comfort, if any.

"Yeah. I shouldn't be gone long. If I know your Dad, he'll be making his way back to us, one way or the other. You just keep to your chores, and we'll be back before you know it."

Just before they reached the pig sty, Carl asked in a small voice, "Do you think he's dead…like them?" He pointed to the walkers hovering by the wire fence that surrounded the prison, "A walker?"

This stopped Rick in his track, literally stunning him on the spot as he looked down at their son, who looked up at him with such sorrow in his eyes that it almost killed him to see him like that.

Rick knelt down to his level, his hands on his shoulders for added comfort as he replied, "No, I don't think he's like them. I honestly believe that he's still alive, I just know it. I feel it so I don't want you to ever think like that. Okay?"

"I know, I just don't want to see him like them if he is."

He then moved away from his Dad's hold, and proceeded to head to the garden, Rick watching him as he stood back up, starting to doubt himself whether Dave was still alive or…

"Hey, are you okay?" He heard someone's voice ask from somewhere behind him. He knew it was Michonne, turning around to see her escorting Flame, her horse, toward the gates.

"Yeah, as okay as anyone can be. You headin' out again?"

For the past month Michonne had took it upon herself to go out and hunt for the Governor, feeling as though it was her fault for all of the pain and suffering he'd caused and that she could've prevented it if she'd just killed him when she had the chance instead of blinding him in one eye.

"Shouldn't be gone too long. You just stay safe, and stick to your instincts while you're out there."

"You too," Rick replied back, Michonne patting his shoulder considerately before climbing onto Flame, and heading out, instructing the man guarding the gates to open them.

"And I won't forget your comic books," she winked at Carl as she strode past, nudging Flame to pick up the pace, who grunted at the soft kick to the ribs.

Rick turned back to begin showing Carl how best to tend the garden but before he could even stop, they heard gunshots coming from within the prison.

Andrea, who'd taken up permanent residence in the guard tower, seeing as it was her rightful place being an excellent shot with the sniper rifle, rushed out of the door, and shouted from above, "Cell blocks?"

Rick shook his head, "I don't know!" before turning back to Carl, "Get in the tower with Andrea. Don't argue, go!" He then rushed back up the driveway, chucking his gloves to one side as Carl barred the pig pen so they wouldn't escape in the chaos.

Michonne, alerted by the gunfire and the chaos, turned Flame around and headed back toward the gate, her search for the Governor having to wait until this was sorted.

"Walkers in D!" hollered Glenn who was standing next to Carol, both armed with firearms waiting for the others to join them.

"What about C?" Rick asked Sasha who'd just walked through the gate which lead into C with Tyreese and Maggie following behind.

"Clear. We locked the gates to the tombs. Hershel's on guard." Sasha informed Rick as they all run in the direction of Cell Block D, Rick swearing to himself that he'd have to wait until they deemed this place safe again before he set out to find Dave, unbeknownst to the fact that Daryl had already left hours before. Knowing full well that he was better equipped in finding him than anybody else.

Michonne whistled for the guard to open up the gates, but he'd followed Rick back into the prison to help leaving them abandoned. Carl, who'd heard her whistle, was sprinting toward the pulley, using all of his strength to gradually open the gates for her.

She strode in, waiting for the next set of gates to be open with two walkers already following her in. She instructed Flame to stop, which he did, as she climbs down and was ready to use her katana to finish them off quickly when suddenly they're already on her, taking her off guard, but she managed to push them away without getting bitten.

Andrea, already seeing the commotion, had armed herself with her rifle, and was waiting for a perfect shot, but whenever she had it, Michonne would get in the way.

Carl, knowing that it was up to him to at least get one of them off her, took up one of the rifles propped up inside the guard tower, and aimed it at one of the walkers, one of which was kicked away by Michonne while she grappled with the other.

Carl took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger gently, looking through the rifle's scope, which was aimed right at the walker's head. The power of the gun made him stagger a little, but the shot hit home, splitting its skull open like a melon. Bits of skull and brain matter coloured the floor as Michonne was still struggling with the other walker.

She tripped over the snare, falling backward, but lucky missed the spiked wall that was set up in front of the wire fence to hinder the walkers if they managed to get through.

Andrea, rifle still aiming at the walker's head, still waited for the right moment, the moment coming when Michonne lifted the head far enough away from her and to the side, perfect for Andrea to take the shot and not hit her too.

The front of the walker's head blew up in chunks as the bullet penetrated the back of its skull, Michonne having to look away so none of it ended up in her mouth, instead decorating the side of her face.

As Carl pulled Flame to safety, Andrea appeared from the guard tower, rushing over to Michonne to help her to her feet, wrapping one of her arms around her shoulders for leverage. She then looked up and saw that the commotion had attracted more of the walkers to the wire fence, wondering just how long it was going to hold on for.

Back inside the prison, Rick and his group rushed in, giving guns to anyone who could carry them whilst escorting those who'd either managed to pass the walkers or was coming down the stairs out the building.

They then continued on to help those who weren't so lucky to pass.

A crying red-headed boy was crawling away from a walker, who was also crawling thanks to having no legs, but Maggie scooped him up in her arms, and executed the crawler with the bullet in the head.

She gave the kid to one of the adults, who were shutting themselves in the cells where they know they'd be safe while Maggie carried on, Glenn following shortly behind as he bashed a walker in the head with a baseball bat.

Ryan, who was trying to fend off a walker, wasn't so lucky and was bit on the arm because of it. Glenn managed to pry it off, and bash its head in as Carol ran to Ryan's side, helping him to his feet, and leading him into a nearby empty cell where she was going to amputate his arm.

Instructing him to lie down on the bed, Carol proceeded to tie a belt around his arm to stop the infection from spreading and was about to do it swiftly when she noticed that he'd also been bitten on his nape as well.

"Are we clear down here?" Rick called out to the group, "Are we safe?"

"Yeah, yeah." Several of them replied as they killed the last remaining walkers.

Rick then followed Maggie and Glenn up to the second floor as quietly as possible so as to not to alert any stragglers. It all seemed quiet when a cry came from Glenn as a walker had managed to surprise him, pushing it away as far as he could before Maggie could put it down with a bullet.

All three of them looked down to see who it was, "My god, it's Patrick," Maggie uttered, a hand on Glenn's shoulder for added comfort for yet another fallen friend before setting out to get "Dr. S", also known as Dr. Caleb Subramanian, via Rick's request.

Once Maggie had returned with him, Rick pointed out the important spots, "Look...no bites. No wounds. I think he just died."

"And horribly too," Caleb added, taking a closer look at the walker's face, "Pleurisy, aspiration. Choked to death on his own blood."

"I've seen them before on a walker outside the fences." Rick stated, looking up from his knelt position as Glenn nodded, "Patrick had them too."

"They're from the internal lung pressure building up. Like if you shake a soda can and pop the top. Only imagine your eyes, ears, nose and throat are the top."

"It's a sickness...from the walkers?" Bob asked, having joined the group a short while ago, standing beside Herschel, who'd also joined them the same time he did.

"No, these things happened before they were around. Could be pneumococcal. Most likely an aggressive flu strain. I'll have a more accurate hypothesis once Dave returns." Caleb looked up then to see Rick staring back, knowing that look in his eyes. The look that told everyone present that, even though he believes that Dave will return to them, there was that glimmer of doubt that he may not.

"Unfortunately, all of us in here, we've all been exposed to it."

Dr. S's final words were what haunted Rick the most. Now, not only did they have the walkers to worry about, but they may also have an epidemic in their midst.


End file.
